


Ever a Never After

by darknessvisible



Category: Ever After (1998), Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Royalty, Enemies to Lovers, HEA, Inspired by Ever After (1998), Prince Ben Solo, Rey likes to read, Reylo Crossover, Slow Burn, Sonnets, Soulmates, smut in later chapters
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-12
Updated: 2020-11-17
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:35:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,372
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27516958
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darknessvisible/pseuds/darknessvisible
Summary: an Ever After x Reylo fic
Relationships: Rey & Ben Solo, Rey/Ben Solo
Comments: 24
Kudos: 38





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> this was originally an ella enchanted x ever after fic, but it was pretty dark so I decided to leave that idea on the backburner and go for something more light hearted and sappy. so here we are! the opening poem is, of course, a Petrarchan sonnet. this fic will be heavily inspired by the movie plot, but is by no means a scene-by-scene rewrite. I hope you enjoy this first chapter!

_O joyous, blossoming, ever-blessed flowers!_

_’Mid which my pensive queen her footstep sets;_

_O plain, that hold’st her words for amulets_

_And keep’st her footsteps in thy leafy bowers!_

_O trees, with earliest green of springtime hours,_

_And all spring’s pale and tender violets!_

Rey Niima’s hand grazed across the worn page, breathless as she read. 

_O grove, so dark the proud sun only lets_

_His blithe rays gild the outskirts of thy towers!_

All around her, birds chirped to one another. The sun was high on the horizon and the apples which she’d been sent outside to pick were still hanging from their branches. 

_O pleasant country-side! O limpid stream,_

_That mirrorest her sweet face, her eyes so clear,_

_And of their living light canst catch the beam!_

_I envy thee her presence pure and dear._

_There is no rock so senseless but I deem_

_It burns with passion that to mine is near._

She closed the book, savoring the words. Her father had left the entire library to her, but it was rare that she got to take a book from there. Phasma, her step-mother, thought that reading was unbecoming for Rey. Although, she did not make such judgments about her own two daughters, Faelyn and Oluna. They were free to use the library whenever they pleased. Not that they ever did. 

Rey rolled over, brushing the grass and dirt off the front of her dress. 

The sun glinted off the apples, their round bobbing shadows calling to her. Phasma wanted to make pies--rather, she wanted Maz, her maidservant, to make pies and then take credit for them herself at the monthly ladies’ gathering on Saturday next. 

Tucking the book into her apron pocket, Rey reluctantly started the task she’d been sent out to do. 

A few minutes later, after some un-ladylike maneuvers that involved hiking her skirt up and climbing the trunk, Rey had a basket full of apples. She started walking back towards the Niima estate. 

“ _Miss! Miss!_ ” A gentleman’s voice shouted at her. Rey jumped, nearly dropping all her apples. 

“ _What_?” She whipped her head around, ready to throw an apple at the perpetrator. 

As soon as she saw him, she dropped to the ground, bowing her head. “I’m so sorry your highness, I did not know it was you.”

The Crown Prince of Alderaan dismounted his horse. He was tall and wide-shouldered, his entire shadow swallowing up Rey, cutting off the sun. His hair was blacker than the winter night sky. 

“You may rise.” 

She did so, averting her gaze. 

“What’s that you have there, in your apron?” 

Rey looked at him. She tightened her grip on the basket full of apples. 

“Why, it is a book, your Honor.” 

“A book?” He laughed. “You mean to tell me that you read?” 

“Oh, no your Honor. Merely carrying it with me.” Rey kept her head down. She knew the laws about women in certain classes. Not that she was lawfully forbidden from reading. Rather that she knew he would not guess her father belonged to the fiefdom before he passed. Her dress was plain, after all. 

He walked towards her. “Did you steal it?” 

“Steal?” Rey gawked. “That is quite an accusation, my Lord. One I admit I am offended by.” 

“And _I_ am offended by you lot, pretending to read. Everyone is pretending to understand, meanwhile no one comprehends.” He sighed, looking back towards his horse. 

“You sound vexed, my Lord.” 

“I am many things.” He measured her appearance. Pointing to the basket, he spoke. “Am I to believe you are merely carrying those with you as well? Or do you intend to actually do something with them?” 

“I _intend_ to do what I’m told. No more, no less.” Rey was beginning to tire of the interaction. He was arrogant and rude. 

“Then you are no different than anyone else.” The Prince sighed again. He returned to his horse, calling out to her once more before riding away. “I am looking for the monastery. I doubt you’d know where it is, but perhaps the Lady of your estate might.” 

Rey snorted. _She_ was the Lady of her estate, technically. “As you’ve deduced, I am but a lowly apple-picker.” She knew exactly where the Monastery was. “You are welcome to ask the Lady.”

With that, Rey left him in the open field, humming to herself as she climbed back up towards the estate, her dress sticking to her legs from the heat. 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Rey! What on _earth_ is this? You were out in the field for hours. Not to mention, you didn’t even warn us that the Prince was to stop by.” Phasma, who never shouted, regarded her with a sickly sweet smile from her spot at the head of the table. 

Rey tried to balance a full water pitcher in her hands as she poured some out in Oluna’s cup. The two girls sat flanked on either side of their mother. 

“I did not realize he did.” 

“Why must you always lie? The Prince said he saw you out in the fields before he arrived. He said you were tiresome.” 

At this, Rey slammed the pitcher down. “ _Tiresome_?” The nerve. 

“Be thankful that’s _all_ he thought you were. It takes less, you know.” She looked at her daughters, who were giggling, Faelyn picking up her fork and slashing it across her neck, miming her mother’s words. 

Rey tried to calm herself. “He asked for directions. I simply told him what he wanted to hear.” 

Phasma smirked. “And that is why you are lucky to have us. You are quite stupid, really, and you wouldn’t survive a day without our mercy. I told the Prince you were simply not in the right mind, and that took care of that.” She patted her thin lips with a napkin. 

Rey imagined herself taking that napkin and shoving it down her step-mother’s throat. Or, worse, and perhaps most frightening to someone like Phasma, hitting her over the head with a book. 

“Thank you.” She spoke through gritted teeth, taking the pitcher back inside the kitchen with her. 

There, Rose was waiting. She was one of Maz’s daughters. When Maz had come to the Niima estate, Rose had been a baby. Now she was eighteen years old, a bit younger than Rey, who herself was twenty-two. 

“At it again?” Rose took the pitcher from her and began to fill it back up. Rey rolled her eyes. 

“If stupid be thine offense, let birds flock to eat your eyeballs.”

This made Rose howl with laughter. “I think that might be an improvement.”

Rey crossed over to the other side of the kitchen, sitting on her favorite stool. “I saw the crown Prince today.” 

“I heard.” 

“He’s awful.” 

Rose chuckled. “Oh, is he? And handsome, I suppose?” 

Wrinkling her nose at the suggestion, Rey pretended to wretch. “ _Handsome_ is hardly an accomplishment. Oluna and Faelyn are handsome, and look at how awful they are.” 

“You are handsome and you’re not awful.” Rose observed matter-of-factly. 

“Yes, and that’s because I read.” Now Rey was the one giggling. 

“A terrible thing.” 

The two girls continued to chat and laugh as the sun fell further in the sky. When it was time to clean up the plates from the table, after the three ladies of the house moved to the sitting room to take tea, Rey hummed to herself as she completed the task. 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Being crown Prince was perhaps the worst thing that ever happened to Ben Solo. 

At least, that is how he would characterize it. 

It was one endless parade of sycophants, prattling on about matters of little importance all while hanging on to his every word, his every movement. Ben once heard that an entire argument had happened over who he nodded to first at one of the Queen’s luncheons. As if nodding had any material merit in the world. As if it could be gleaned for meaning beyond happenstance. 

The rest of the world had moved towards knowledge, trading in royal riches for the wealth of books and lively discussions. But Alderaan lagged behind, or so he felt. Only the monks kept libraries whose contents spanned the globe. 

His parents let him go out to the Monasteries as often as he wished, but it wasn’t enough. He wanted others to converse with. He wanted to experience beauty, joy, elation, sadness, disappointment, anything that would break the cycle of pandersome exhaustion. 

Today, he returned from the Monastery in an unhappy mood. The frustration of his predicament weighed heavy. 

The Castle was often full of people milling about--daughters of Counts and Dukes, servants, guards, and merchant visitors permitted by the King. 

A young woman, one of Duke Dameron’s children, approached Ben as he entered. 

“Good evening, my Lord.” She bowed, flashing a pretty smile. 

Ben instantly felt bored. “Good evening.” He tried to walk past her.

“How was your walk?” 

He swallowed, aware that his actions were being scrutinized by passersby. After all, Kayla Dameron was in the small pool of young women who were deemed worthy of Ben’s romantic affection. No doubt there would be many tableside discussions tonight over this small exchange. 

Keeping this in mind, Ben tried to appear neutral. She was a pretty girl, but he did not care much about that. He would rather someone honest--if even a little bit rude, like that servant he’d ran into earlier in the afternoon--than someone pretty. “It was nice, thank you. If you’ll excuse me.” He stepped around her, walking briskly until he reached his quarters. 

There, he found a note on his bed. It was a reminder invitation from his mother, handwritten as she enjoyed to do whenever it was something he was required to attend. 

_The Royal Family invites you to attend_

_the Fall Solstice Ball two weeks hence, in which_

_Our only son, Benjamin Solo,_

_Will be introduced to society_

_And coronated_

Ben groaned, crumpling up the invitation. 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Oluna screamed from across the house. 

Startled, Rey stabbed her finger with the needle she’d been gently threading through a patch of fabric, covering a hole in her apron. Sucking on her finger to stop the bleeding, Rey hurried out into the hallway. 

“What is it?” 

Faelyn and Oluna were huddled by the fireplace in the sitting room, bouncing around gleefully. In their hands they held a letter. 

Oluna waved it in Rey’s face just as Phasma rushed into the room. 

“Girls! What is it?” 

“Weeeee got a leeeeetter.” Oluna sang. “It’s from the Royal family.” 

“They’re introducing Prince Ben into society.” Faelyn snatched the letter out of Oluna’s hand, smoothing it out to read it herself. 

“Oh, _oh_ , this is just _wonderful_ news!” Phasma gasped. “Girls, we must go into town tomorrow to get you some new silk." 

Silk? Rey rolled her eyes. Phasma had always been reckless with money, but more recently it had gotten worse. She’d sold off a candelabra just to pay for an outstanding debt. 

“ _We formally invite all the ladies of the Niima estate to attend the Fall Solstice Ball_!” Faelyn read off the invite. 

Rey spoke without thinking, “That means me too.” She imagined herself bowing in front of the Prince, introducing herself. How his smug expression would wipe away to shock. 

“Don’t be ridiculous.” Phasma grabbed the letter. “You have too many chores to finish. There won’t be any time to get you a dress. Who will help bathe you? I certainly cannot, what with Oluna and Faelyn. Yes, you’ll have to stay home.” 

The three women scurried out of the room, still roaring with excitement. 

Rey plopped down onto one of the chairs. It was a silly fantasy, anyway. Besides, now she would have free reign to enter the Library and take any book she wanted that night. No one would be home. 

“Let birds eat your eyeballs,” she mumbled with a grin, unable to stop herself. 


	2. A Great Start

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm overwhelmed with joy at the positive reception this fic has had after just one chapter! your comments are like fuel for my little gremlin brain. please keep them coming! 
> 
> and now I present to you, chapter 2~~~~

Rey spent the rest of the week sewing Oluna and Faelyn’s gowns. The silk they’d purchased must have come as a favor, for there was no way Phasma could afford the amount they’d purchased. An entire yard of soft, muted blue fabric. 

“Make sure you sew mine along the _bust_.” 

“I want to be the talk of the evening.” 

“Leave some leftover for my hair. I want a silk bow.”

“If your seams are messy I’ll make sure you stay here instead of moving into the castle with us when the Prince and I get married.” 

_Wouldn’t that be nice_. Rey mused on Oluna’s intended insult while she sewed, wondering what kind of joy could await if the three women who’d tormented her for all these years could finally be gone. And either sister would be a perfect match for the Prince, no doubt, what with all his arrogance and conceit. 

Saturday came and Phasma announced that they would be attending one of the Queen’s luncheons, per a distant connection with Duke Dameron who had invited them. 

“You’ll finish your chores before we return, of course.” Phasma waved her hand at Rey. She brought over Phasma’s hat and helped her put it on. 

“I’ll need another day or two to finish the hemming.” 

“No, you don’t. You’ll finish before we get back.” Faelyn and Oluna giggled at their mother’s harsh tone, as though it were a formidable weapon that rendered Rey defenseless. 

Rey smiled, clasping her hands behind her back. “Of course.” She’d already finished the hemming two days ago. If she timed it right, she could sneak away to the Monastery. 

Once the three of them left, Rose stopped Rey in the hallway. 

“I assume you’ll be on your way soon.” 

“Please don’t tell Maz.” Rose’s mother was not as easily accustomed to lying to the ladies of the house as the two of them were. 

“Is that what you’re wearing?” 

Rey looked down at her plain brown dress. It was the same one she wore most days. “What’s wrong with it?” 

“Nothing, it’s just that tonight is a rare escape. Perhaps you should take more than one risk.” 

She didn’t need to say another word for Rey to know what she was referring to. Phasma had sold most of Rey’s mother’s dresses, some of them even while her father was alive. The handful of them that were left stayed locked in Phasma’s room, inside a mahogany chest with a key. 

“But she always wears it.” Rey was referring to the necklace on which the key hung. 

Rose smiled. “Not always.” She held out her hand. The necklace was in it. 

Rey gasped. “ _How_?” 

Shrugging, Rose placed the necklace in Rey’s hand. “Birds. Now go. Don’t waste another minute.”

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The dress she’d chosen to wear was a dark green velvet material. It had a high waist, cinched by a pearl-colored weaving. It grazed her ankles. 

She stood in front of Oluna’s mirror. There wasn’t one in her or Rose’s room. Rey could not remember clearly what her mother looked like, and the only painting of her had been sold off, but as she held her hands to her cheeks she could not help but feel like a spitting image of the woman. Her beauty had been renowned across the kingdom. Very few even knew Rey existed. 

Rose helped braid her hair and pin back the front, completing the look. 

“All is right.” Rose’s smile twinkled with a satisfaction Rey understood. They lived under Phasma’s miserable thumb but this was a glimpse into what could have been. And that glimpse was enough. 

Rey took one of the horses to help cut down the travel time. It left more for reading Thomas More’s _Utopia_ , her favorite book to revisit. 

It was the book her father had on him when he’d been ambushed and killed. It was never recovered. 

The monks were familiar with Rey. She tied her horse to a tree at the base of the entrance. 

There were few sounds besides the soft turning of pages or the occasional deep breath. Rey relished in the silence, feeling both invisible and free.

“ _Why do you suppose they made you king in the first place?' I ask him. 'Not for your benefit, but for theirs. They meant you to devote your energies to making their lives more comfortable, and protecting them from injustice. So your job is to see that they're all right, not that you are - just as a shepherd's job, strictly speaking, is to feed his sheep, not himself.”_

The entire Royal family of Alderaan had it wrong, in Rey’s opinion. They ruled to be seen, rather than seeing what it meant to rule. High taxes drove citizens to crime. Farmers could not reap the fruits of their own labor, instead passing off large shares to the Kingdom while their families starved. She thought of the arrogant Prince and his insults. Now _there_ was someone who could benefit from reading this book.

Rey’s father used to tell her about the injustices he often saw on his merchant travels. The two of them would stay up late at night and argue about the best ways to fix this. Rey insisted that there was no such thing as utopia--that humans were the root problem, and there was no corner of heaven or earth that could endure the cruelty of men. Her father, however, staunchly defended Thomas More’s writing. He called it a blueprint. 

Would he still feel that way, she wondered, after seeing how Phasma treated his only child after his death?

“Excuse me.” A man’s voice interrupted her. None of the monks ever spoke. 

Rey slammed the book shut. She turned around to see the crown Prince of Alderaan, much to her horror. 

He would recognize her. He would see her clothes and assume again that she’d stolen them. _It takes less_. Phasma’s words echoed. He would have her beheaded right then and there. 

“What’s that you’re reading, Miss?”

He’d asked that question the first time they met. 

Rey’s mouth was dry. “A book.” 

He laughed. “Yes, I can see that. But what book?”

“ _Utopia_.” She tried to keep her head bowed, hoping he would not recognize her.

“Thomas More?” He sounded surprised. It irked her. 

“No. A poor man with the same name.” She folded the book against her chest. The velvet material made her feel silly, but she would not let the Prince see her embarrassment. 

“What a predicament. To be poor and to write a book that a rich man has himself written already.” The Prince smiled at her. 

“A predicament only worse, perhaps, if it were a poor woman.” Rey turned away from him, relishing in the insult that could end with her head on a mount if he realized. It would be worth it. 

“You concern yourself with those less fortunate than you.” He followed her. 

“Do you not? Is that not, in fact, your entire profession?” 

This punctured his smug expression a bit. “Royalty is not a profession. It is a bind.” 

There he went again with his conceit. Rey’s cheeks felt hot. “Would you say the same to your many servants? Are they bound to you?” 

“Of course not. They may leave whenever they please.” 

“My Lord. Excuse me, but that is obtuse. Much like you, your servants are bound by public confession.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“Tis a profession, my Lord.” 

He stared at her. The intensity was uncomfortable. It forced her to notice his face, which was famously handsome. His nose was a bit large, but it balanced his mouth nicely. Rey looked away. 

“What is your name?” 

Well, that was _not_ what she expected. When would the beheading start? 

“My Lord could hardly expect me to divulge, when I’ve been so impertinent.” She tried to smile coyly, as she’d seen Oluna and Faelyn practice many times. 

The Prince laughed. “What are you doing with your face?” 

Rey tried to hold the expression. “If you’ll excuse me, my Lord.” She placed the book back onto a shelf indelicately. It pained her to be so reckless with it but she had no choice but to get out of there. The hour was getting late and this was the opposite of a rare escape. This was playing with fire. If anyone heard that the Prince had been conversing with a young lady in the Monastery--it wouldn’t be hard to put two and two together, even for someone as dense as Phasma. 

“Wait! Please, your name,” The Prince held his hand out to her. 

She panicked. “Countess Du Ren.” It was her mother’s name. 

He bowed. “I shan’t forget it.”

Rey rode her horse back home without looking back and blew right past Rose when she got inside. There was barely enough time to take off the dress and fold it back the way it was. 

By the time Phasma and her daughters were pulling up to the house, Rey was undoing the braids in her hair. She greeted them in the foyer, breathless. 

Phasma scowled. “What have you been doing? Why is your face flushed?” 

“I was just finishing my chores.” 

This appeased her. “Hm. Yes, I’m not surprised you exerted yourself such. Being stupid can be exhuasting, or so I’ve heard. I wouldn’t know really.” She tossed her hat at Rey and directed her daughters to follow her into the sitting room. They began chatting about how lovely the luncheon was and how kind it was for the Queen to go around and speak to everyone personally. 

Rose and Rey exchanged relieved looks. 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------

The Prince was in high spirits when he returned to the castle. 

He flung open the doors to the Great Hall, interrupting a discussion between the Queen and her ladies-in-waiting. 

“Mother!” He shouted. “I believe I have just met the woman of my dreams.”

A few of the ladies looked disappointed. The Queen chuckled. “A bold proclamation for someone who is about to be coronated. Not to mention, your high standards.” 

She came over to take his hand, which he obliged. They began walking about the room. The Queen enjoyed taking turns like this so she could admire the paintings of past monarchs. While her husband, Han, had married into the royal family, it was her blood that made them all who they are. 

“Tell me about her.” Queen Leia patted his arm. 

“She reads.” Prince Ben beamed. “And she doesn’t like me very much.” 

“Off to a great start, I see.” 

Ben was used to the Queen poking fun at him. It was her favorite pastime. 

“I must see her again, somehow.” He began going over every detail he could recall in his mind, hoping to find some clue as to where she stayed or how to contact her again. Perhaps he could visit the Monastery every day until he saw her there.

“Why don’t we send an invitation to her household to come by for tea?” The Queen waved over her ladies-in-waiting. They all obliged, forming a small cluster around Leia and her son. 

“I did not recognize her family name. The house of Ren.” 

Leia racked her brain for where she had heard that name before. “Kayla, will you ask my brother for access to the Records room? There you’ll find all the noble families who have lived here. Look for house Ren.” 

Queen Leia, unlike many other queens, enjoyed giving her ladies-in-waiting every task, even--and perhaps most especially--those that were reserved for men. 

Kayla’s eyes widened. It was a great honor to enter the Records room. “As you wish, my Queen.” 

“There you have it.” Leia let go of Ben’s arm. “Now, your father is waiting for you in the War Room. Be nice.” 

Ben was grinning from ear to ear. “I won’t even comment on what a strangeness it is to place war and nicety together.” He headed off to meet his father.

Kaydel, one of the ladies-in-waiting, caught Kayla’s arm as she walked past to go get Luke. “Who do you think it is? I’ve never heard of house Ren.” 

Kayla shrugged. “I’ve no idea. But I do think we should be careful. The Prince has never been so… expressive.” 

“Do you mean to imply witchcraft of some kind?” 

“Don’t be ridiculous, Kaydel. I just meant… we should keep our wits about us.” 


	3. Gossip

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is getting highly delicious, you might see me here often. another update!! i am a sucker for miscommunication and comedy of errors so get ready for some belly laughs <333

The next morning, Rey went into town to buy eggs and milk. 

It was usually Rose’s job, but after the favor she’d done for her yesterday Rey wanted to do something back. She woke early and headed up the road, her usual brown dress waffling at her feet in the morning wind. 

When she walked up to the dairy stall Rose frequented--a Mr. and Mrs. Plunkett whose three cows were the sweethearts of the town--she overheard some chatter. 

“ _Did you hear about the crown Prince?_ ”

“ _No, my, what happened? Is he alright?_ ”

“ _No! He’s in love!_ ” 

Rey dropped the weave basket in her hands. A dozen eggs cracked and ran everywhere. 

“I’m so sorry.” She mumbled. “I shall pay for those, of course.” 

Mrs. Plunkett eyed her angrily. She snatched the shillings right out of Rey’s hand. 

“It’s two extra.” 

“But I’ve got two dozen here and the other dozen.” 

“Two extra.” 

Rey sighed, handing over the money. Phasma would have words for her later. 

She craned her neck to hear the conversation still happening beside her. 

“ _He’s going to marry her, they say_.”

“ _Who is she? She must be a beautiful woman. Of royal blood, no doubt_.”

“ _Certainly yes. She is of noble house_ . _”_

Rey walked away from the stall in a daze, forgetting about the milk. 

Not that she minded the news. It would be a foolish girl who married Prince Ben. It would no doubt be a lifetime of repeating oneself and explaining how everything did not depend on his estimation of it. 

Still, her mind lingered on him the entire walk back. 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------

She got an earful about the milk. Maz was an organized woman who disliked Phasma more than anyone in the house, but she disliked being considered bad at her profession even more. 

“Tell me again why you forgot” She crossed her arms. 

“Jonoff’s goat started chasing me.”

“Jonoff? He never lets that goat leave his sight.” 

“The goat must have cut a deal” Rey smirked. She knew that Maz knew it was a lie. It wasn’t that Maz needed to know. It was that she needed to have Rey say it so that when Phasma questioned her, Maz wouldn’t have to lie. 

“Let’s leave it there. I won’t even start on the missing two shillings. I’ll put in my own to make up the difference.” 

Rey’s stomach twisted, ashamed of the position she’d put Maz in. “I am sorry about that.” 

“That’s alright.” Maz patted her shoulder. “You can make it up to me when you marry the Prince.” 

Rey laughed. “Didn’t you hear? I suppose I am carrying the gossip. He’s already found his future Queen. Some beautiful woman of noble blood.” 

“Your point?” Maz shoved her out of the kitchen. 

Rose was folding clothes in the upstairs hallway. Rey joined her. 

“They’ve been arguing all morning.” Rose leaned in to whisper, nodding her head at Oluna’s door. “Her and Faelyn. They want to turn your mother’s wedding dress into scraps.” 

“They _what_ \--” Rey wound the sheets around her palm, charging towards Oluna’s room. Rose grabbed her quickly. “ _Do not_ fear. I gave them a speech about how outdated the dress is, and how the Prince will be looking for modern women, what with all of his modern sensibilities.” 

She did not want to back down. There were ample reasons to strangle her two step-sisters anyway. 

“Please don’t. I want to eat dinner tonight.” 

Reluctantly, Rey turned around and resumed folding. She fumed as she did so, imagining all the ways she could rearrange the house furniture so that neither Oluna nor Faelyn could walk anywhere without tripping. 

As they finished the last pile, Rey started to feel ashamed of her outburst. She turned to Rose--her only friend, her confidant--and said, “I’m sorry for what they put you through, too.”

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Kayla knocked on the Grand Duke’s chamber door. There was some grumbling and then he appeared.

“Yes?”

“The Queen requests that I have access to the Records room, my Lord.” 

He eyed Kayla suspiciously. “You realize that the Records room is the oldest part of this castle. It is the closest thing we have to a heart.” 

“I honor the importance, my Lord. I am pleased to have this task.”

He sighed, pulling a key out from his breast pocket. “You speak to no one about what you find in there. This is not for gossip.” 

Kayla nodded, taking the key from him. 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Prince Ben decided to spend the day at the Monastery in the hopes that he would run into Countess Du Ren. 

The Queen asked him to drop off a few thank you gifts for the families that had attended the luncheon. One such family was nearby the Monastery and so Ben agreed to deliver it. 

He rode up to the Niima estate with guards behind him, a carriage full of gifts. By the time he reached the front of the house, there was already a servant outside to greet him. 

“Your Highness.” The woman bowed. “I shall alert the ladies of the house at once. To what do we owe this great pleasure?”

“I bring gifts. From my mother.” 

“The Queen’s kindness is innumerable. I shall fetch Lady Phasma.”

Maz walked calmly into the house, and then as soon as she was out of view she hurried into the kitchen. 

“You won’t believe who is here with tidings from the Queen.” She wiggled her brows, tossing an apron at Rey. “Put on some tea, won’t you.”

Phasma and her two daughters came downstairs moments later, the latter fighting over a ribbon. Rey laughed. They were so concerned with royalty, so consumed by their desire to be more than they are. It was probably a high ranking cavalry member or at most a Duke. 

Rey overheard a bit of the conversation from outside through the kitchen window as she hung a tea kettle over the fire. 

“ _Please let us offer you some tea. Or water for your horses._ ”

“ _Yes, we would love to serve you my Lord_.” 

“ _My, you look so handsome in the midday sun. Does he not, Oluna? Handsome indeed_.”

The tea kettle began to whistle. It was the crown Prince. Maz walked back in and started hastily arranging a cheese plate. 

“Rose.” Rey croaked. “Could you serve them the tea?”

Her friend had been rummaging for their nicest tea set. Both she and Maz stopped and looked at Rey incredulously. 

“And let you miss the opportunity to show yourself to the Prince?”

“He’s really not that great, you know.” Rey grabbed the tea kettle and brought it over to Rose. 

“I’ll go.” Rose nodded. 

But Maz was having none of it. “No, Rey will go. I asked Rey to do it and she will oblige.” 

Rey imagined her head rolling off and tumbling down the road. There would be no living Niimas left if the Prince realized she had lied to him. 

She had to be careful with what she said next. Maz would not lie for her. “I yelled at him, by accident, when I went to pick apples. I am afraid he will recognize me.” 

Phasma’s voice carried into the kitchen. “... _Where_ is that tea? These servants, they really just--well they, oh yes they are wonderful it’s so wonderful to have help. So fortunate, yes…”

Maz pointed at Rey. “You’re lucky I like you better with your head on. But you’ll still have to carry this cheese plate onto the table.”

Rey’s palms started to sweat. She calculated her fate in that moment. Offend Maz and risk eating terribly bland food for a week, perhaps even none at all if Phasma learned of her insubordination, or risk the Prince noticing her.

It would only take a few seconds. Walk in. Put the plate down. Walk out. What could go wrong?


	4. Pretending

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you so much for all your lovely comments! your excitement makes me excited and then i write faster so it's a win all around. please keep them coming! the enemies-to-lovers vibes are strong here. pour yourself some cider, put on a sweater, play that medieval youtube playlist softly in the background, and enjoy responsibly~~~~

Ben hated pretending to listen. 

According to his mother, it was his biggest flaw. He took issue with her characterization of him though. He hated pretending to listen  _ to boring things _ . Which was far more the fault of the boring party rather than the one who is bored. 

He offered a bland smile to Lady Phasma as she waved in one of the servants. 

If their horses hadn’t needed some water, Ben would have declined her invitation inside. 

One of the servants came over with a pitcher, pouring water into his cup first, and then Phasma’s. Ben noticed how steady her hand was. He glanced up at her and caught the tail-end of a strange expression. Something like amusement. 

“Pardon, Lady Phasma. We really can’t stay.” 

“No, please, we have a beautiful cheese from the North. It is such a treat, really, you must.” 

There was a loud clang behind him. He stood instinctively, reaching out to help the servant who had dropped the plate of cheese Phasma must have been fawning about. But the servant curled away from him, gathering the cheese quickly into her apron. 

“Please, let me help.” Ben spoke softly. It was a bit awkward watching her struggle. 

The servant ignored him. She kept her head bowed and rushed back into the kitchen. 

Ben sighed. It was not uncommon for servants to recoil in his presence. Sometimes he wished they would not be so frightened by him but then he might as well be wishing for the Alderaanian monarchy to crumble. It seemed to function on fear fueled by hierarchy. A servant was a servant and a Prince was a Prince. 

“Anyway, we’ll be going now.” Ben nodded to his soldiers and together they all exited. “Thank you for giving our horses water. I shall tell the Queen of your kindness.” 

Phasma smiled and bowed. “Thank you so much, my Lord. Perhaps before you go I could introduce you to my daughters, Faelyn and Oluna?”

“I’m afraid we really must leave. I have somewhere to be.” 

“And where might that be? Perhaps we can offer some assistance--directions, or blankets perhaps, if you are spending the day in the fields?” 

“If you must know, I am going to the Monastery to find someone.” Ben mounted his horse. 

“Well, I am quite familiar with all of the families nearby. Who is it you seek? Is it a Lady?” Phasma’s voice strained. 

“‘Tis a Goddess.”

“Oh. I fear we’ve just heard the sound of all the hearts in Alderaan breaking.” She laughed nervously, snapping her fingers to get Rose’s attention. Rose had been lingering by the door. “Get Faelyn and Oluna  _ now _ ” She whispered harshly. 

“Will this Goddess of yours be at the Fall Solstice Ball?” 

“I am on my way to ask her. Now, if you’ll excuse me.” Ben flicked the reins and his horse took off down the road. 

Faelyn and Oluna stumbled out of the door, fighting with each other. Phasma sighed.

“Why is he leaving? What did you say to him mother?” Oluna shouted.

“ _ Girls _ !” Phasma held up a finger. She turned to her servant. “Fetch Rey immediately and tell her she must follow the Prince and discover who this so-called Goddess is that he is meeting at the Monastery.” 

Rose stared at her. “My Lady, why don’t I go?” 

“ _ You _ need to start cooking. And Rey knows where the Monastery is. She is used to running through the muddy fields and eavesdropping, no doubt. Do as I say.”

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Rey was balanced on her favorite stool, craning her neck to hear through the kitchen window. 

“…. _ I am going to the Monastery… find someone………..Who is it you seek?...........Tis a Goddess……..I am on my way to ask her _ ”

She fell off the stool. Rose entered the kitchen. 

“Phasma wants you to spy on the Prince.” 

Rey held her elbow gingerly. “I can’t go.” 

“I offered to do it myself but she’d rather you go.” 

“It’s me.”

Rose laughed. “Yes, that’s what I said.” 

“No. It’s  _ me _ . The one he is riding there to meet.”

Rose blinked a few times. And then it dawned on her. “The dress.” She looked amused. “You took more than a few risks.”

“It wasn’t on purpose! Frankly, he interrupted me whilst I was reading.” Rey frowned. 

“Well now he thinks you’re--what did he call you? Tis a Goddess.” She mocked the Prince’s deep voice. 

“I’m sure he’ll forget about me tomorrow.”

“But Phasma will not. You must leave. Walk halfway there and come back with some lie about what you saw.” 

It wasn’t a terrible plan. Rey righted the stool and took off her apron. She suddenly felt flushed. Her dress had soot around the ankles from dusting the fireplace. Why did it matter? She wouldn’t actually go to the Monastery. Halfway and back. 

As she stepped out onto the road the sky started to rumble. Phasma watched her from the window. Rey took off into a small jog until she was no longer in view of the estate. 

She slowed to a comfortable pace, mulling over what lie she’d tell about what she saw. The Prince found his Goddess and she rejected him. The Prince arrived and took one look at her and turned around promptly. The Prince discovered that his Goddess was just a frog on stilts with a very convincing hair piece and he left in tears, swearing off love forever. The Prince discovered that his Goddess was in fact just a servant who wore her mother’s dress and he ordered her beheading at dawn. 

Without realizing it, Rey had walked all the way to the Monastery. The sky had opened up with rain, splashing into her eyes.

“Miss!” Someone was shouting at her, rushing down the Monastery steps. 

Rey turned around and started to run as fast as she could. The rain picked up, soaking her dress as her shoes kicked up mud onto her ankles. 

The sky cracked with lightning and Rey tripped. A chorus of thunder followed. Rey tried to wipe the raindrops from her eyes as she heard footsteps approach. 

“Are you alright?” A hand was on her forearm, lifting her up. 

Her hair was stuck to the sides of her face. “I’m fine, please.” 

“You insist on rendering me useless, I see.” The Crown Prince of Alderaan laughed, his hand still on her forearm. She was close enough to smell a faint lemon and pine scent coming off his neck. 

“And you insist on interrupting me.” Rey yanked her arm out of his grip, heart pounding. 

“Interrupting you from getting caught in the rain? From tripping over your own dress?” He laughed. “Why are you dressed like a servant today?” 

Rey gawked. Was he really so daft? 

“I do not mean to offend. Merely remark.” He chuckled. Rain hung on his eyelashes. She looked away. 

“I am undercover, your Highness.” 

“As a servant?” 

“As a Lady.” 

He pushed the hair out of his eyes. “Then I am undercover as your servant, and I must accompany you on your mission.” 

Part of her wondered which was worse; him thinking she was joking or her wishing she was. 

The storm continued. Some distance away, Rey saw the Prince’s horse bucking its head, afraid of the sounds. 

“Shouldn’t you lead him to shelter?” She pointed at the horse. 

The Prince offered his hand to her. “As you wish, my Lady.” 

Rey stared at his hand, feeling her mouth run dry as it did when he’d approached her in the Monastery last time. Phasma’s voice was in her head,  _ what exactly did he say? Was he infatuated? Was he bored? Tell me everything _ . 

She placed her hand in his, nodding.

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The Queen sighed. Her husband was being difficult again. 

Han had always been at odds with their only son, but as his coronation got closer the tension mounted. The King wanted his son to marry royalty. Leia simply wanted her son to marry. 

They argued frequently about what to do. 

Today, the King was in an especially foul mood after hearing a rumor from his footman. 

“In  _ love _ ? I’ve never heard of anything worse.” 

The Queen narrowed her eyes at him. “Well that is good to know.” 

“That’s not what I meant.” Han sulked. “You know what I meant. He’s not in love with anything. He’s bored.” 

“You saw to that.” The Queen referred to the many projects Ben had brought to the King which were summarily turned down. 

“If he had better ideas I might consider them.” Han sat on his throne, waving over one of the servants. They brought him a goblet of wine. 

Leia plucked it out of his hand right after, handing it back to the servant. “Why don’t you try to keep an open mind about this?” 

“Don’t tell me what to do.” Han grumbled, watching his wine walk away. 

“Don’t forget who put you here.” Leia patted the throne, offering her husband a smile before leaving the throne room in a flourish, her ladies-in-waiting following. 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------

They took shelter under the awning abutting the south side of the Monastery.

Prince Ben seemed to watch her intently as she squeezed the water out of her hair.

“Are you always so pronounced in your curiosities?”

He did not look away. “Yes.” 

Rey laughed, and then immediately tried to cover it up. 

“And are  _ you _ always so pronounced in your obfuscation? It is quite alright to find me funny, madame.” His voice was pleasant as it mixed with the steady pitter-patter around them. Rey thought of Rose’s interpretation of it; it was much deeper, so deep in fact that she could fall into it like a well and it might take forever to climb back out. 

A silly thing to imagine. Rey smoothed the hair out of her face. “I don’t find you funny. In fact, I find you--” 

He caught one of her wrists. “Don’t move.” She had already frozen, every muscle in her body tensing. His fingers were soft for someone who rode horses everywhere he went. 

“There’s a bee.” The Prince whispered. Indeed there was, as Rey could hear it buzzing close to her ear. 

It hovered a while and then left them alone. Rey let out a breath. His hand lingered. 

“Do you come here often to read?” He asked, finally lowering it. 

“As often as I’m allowed, sir.” 

“Ah, yes, right. Because you’re pretending to be a servant to escape courtly life.” He spoke with certainty, completely missing Rey’s annoyed expression. “It’s rather genius. I should do it myself.” He unbuckled his cloak, letting it fall around his feet. “Am I convincing enough?” 

The dryness in her mouth was replaced with heat. Did he think it was so easy to be a servant? That the only thing separating royalty from those who were bound to please them was a wardrobe piece? 

“Not nearly.” 

“You are upset with me.” His smile faded. 

“ _ Those fine clothes were once worn by a sheep _ .” Rey quoted More, “ _ and they never turned it into anything better than a sheep _ . There is more to it than that, my Lord.” 

“Enlighten me.” 

“You must first disavow any notion of integrity. Servants are allowed none. What your hands can do belong to all but you. The only thing you have are your thoughts, and even those can be taken from you if you speak them aloud.”

“That sounds terrible.” 

“Indeed, my Lord.” 

“Your imagination is quite dark.” He grinned. “To think, servants in Alderaan being treated so.” 

Rey stomped her foot. “I am imagining nothing!” She was embarrassed by her outburst. “My Lord,” Rey knelt down and picked up his cloak, holding it out to him. “You have much to learn about your own Kingdom.” 

Without waiting for his reply, she stepped out from under the awning. The sky was now clear, not a cloud in sight, and the walk home was long overdue. Phasma would be livid when she returned. 

She set out without looking back, and the Prince did not stop her. 


End file.
